


Gifts of Termina

by Antartique



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask
Genre: Body Modification, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Schrödinger's Termina, Time-centric, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25676491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antartique/pseuds/Antartique
Summary: There are only so many times one can transform into something else without there being permanent consequences. Not dire, not dangerous; just permanent, and really annoying.The LU boys watch Time, and realize something.
Relationships: Everyone & Time, Link & Skull Kid (Legend of Zelda), Malon (Legend of Zelda)/Time (Linked Universe), Time & Warriors (Linked Universe), Time & his Masks
Comments: 36
Kudos: 276





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings** : permanent body modification of the different anatomy kind (gills, scales, bones made of rock, maybe a plant), irresponsible behavior (Time is an idiot), implied past unhealthy relationships, implied 'all the Mask spirits are chilling in Time's head'. Wounds, a broken bone later on. Wild eats rocks, Time also eats rocks. No beta. Also, Schrodinger's Termina. 
> 
> Do tell me if anything else needs to be tagged.

The first one to notice is Link of Ordon, although he doesn’t know he is the first one, or what he is the first one _of_. All he knows is his name is Link, he misses Midna, they are traveling all across time and space, and Time is weird.

Time is really weird.

Not time, as in the passage of time, undeniable and terrifyingly real; no, the Hero of Time, Link, the one with the huge sword and the face markings. Link’s name is also Link, so now he goes by Twilight, and the Hero of Time goes by Time, and they somehow manage.

Still, Time is really weird. Not as weird as this adventure they are currently on, but weird nonetheless, and it isn’t just Twilight-kind of weird. He is a wolf at times and he knows a lot about his travel companions, even things they don’t know he knows: he _pays attention_ , something the others seem to have vowed off from for the time being because they think someone else will pay attention _for_ them, so Twilight does. Which means Twilight notices many things, lots of which should be kept secret, lots of which should be shared, but he won’t say anything: it is not his business to pry, nor are they his secrets to tell.

He is curious, though, because Time is really weird. He can tell the exact time of the day by looking at the sun or the moon, but he doesn’t know what month it is, or even the order the months go in, and according to Sky, the Hylian calendar is as old as Skyloft itself. He can also tell how long it has been since a certain event, but he does not know the year he lives in, or the year he was born; at times they doubt he even knows how old he is. He counts in threes and won't drink well water, and gets in a _mood_ the days around the full moon. He speaks Hylian, Hylian sign, and _whistling_ — according to Legend, an actual language spoken in the Lost Woods, who even _knows_ that?

They have a game going on, Twilight and the others: they try to catch the old man distracted so he will reveal stuff, because Time is _as_ _cryptic_ alive as he is dead, maybe even more. That is how they discovered he speaks _whistling_ : Wind had said some Korok curse word, and gotten scolded in whistles. That is also how they have discovered other oddities, like Time’s personal map being labeled different, or how his first instinct to being attacked with fire is to _defend his masks_.

Not himself, not the others. Time’s priorities are Malon and his masks before everything else.

That is all discoveries they share with each other, of course, but Twilight knows some others things that he refuses to share with them. They are small things: Four has dark magic clinging to him, Legend cries if he hears seagulls, Warriors is really protective of Wind, Time won’t let anyone tend to his wounds.

Maybe the last one is not so small, as it concerns Time’s safety. Maybe the others have already noticed and are trying to do something about it, Twilight doesn’t know. All he knows is that, they have been traveling together for a while and privacy is almost non-existent when they share _the same soul_ , and they have all had to patch each other up more than once, _except_ Time.

Time is not a good healer —that task belongs to Hyrule, with Sky and Wild as back up—, but he is a soldier and knows more about treating wounds than the average person. He has bandaged and stitched wounds for the others often enough, and says he would trust them with the same: a huge claim for someone who does anything possible to _not_ have to undress in front of others.

It is exasperating to watch. Time will be very obviously injured, and still refuse treatment. He could be almost unconscious and still find enough energy to drag himself _away_ from the group to treat his wounds by himself. It is unnerving. It is _unhealthy_. It does not speak well of someone who claims to trust them.

But Twilight understands. _Everyone_ understands, and they have been fortunate enough that Time never gets injured too badly for his habit to become a grave mistake. Everyone has secrets, and if Time’s secrets involve never showing his body to them, then who is Twilight to tell him not to do it?

No one, that’s who.

Still, they can help. They are _supposed_ to help; they are a team, they share a soul, they shouldn’t keep secrets big enough to be fatal between themselves.

But in the end, that is all Twilight notices, all that he knows, because he is just one wolf. He can smell better, see better, hear better, but Time knows his tricks as well as he knows himself, and he evades them with all the grace of whatever Deity he hosts in his blessed, cursed eye.

* * *

The second to notice, and first to actually do something about it, is Hyrule. It was obvious it would be him, as his team role is healer. Time hides his wounds, Hyrule is the healer, and one day it had to happen considering what they are dealing with. And it did, and it is fortunate that it happened _when_ it did: close enough to a town that the others can help a barely conscious Time to the place they are staying in.

Of course, Time pushes them all away the minute he is close enough to drag himself to a safe place. He says he will be fine, he can deal with it, but he can’t walk straight and he doesn’t stay awake long enough to use whatever healing magic he seems to have. The others protest, but Time goes on the defensive, his one eye wild and unfocused as he swings his sword (where is he getting the strength to move?), so they stop.

Hyrule doesn’t protest. He doesn’t speak and hopes he won’t get caught in Time’s unconscious self-defensive maneuvers when he sneaks into the room, making sure no one follows him. It is up to him to deal with the damage, even when the others are being too _stubborn_ to let anyone else help, but Time is the only one who ever does this and there _is_ a way to deal with Time that doesn’t involve yelling at him for being inconsiderate and self-destructive.

(That way involves being tiny, unassuming, and a fairy.)

But, well, he is not quite sure how he is supposed to deal with _this_ kind of damage.

To start with, there are the gashes. They are three per side, each between a rib, parallel to each other, and symmetrical on each side, looking natural as if they have always been there. They aren’t small, but not big either, just large enough for them to be barely visible under Time’s armor and _probably_ usable for their intended use. There are scales surrounding them, light blue and iridescent white, and they are covered in drying blood and other nasty stuff.

Time has gills.

He has _gills_ , like a Zora, and Hyrule has never had to deal with Zora besides River Zora who will attack any Hylian that comes too close, so he has no idea how to deal with damage done to gills. And this kind of damage… might be a little sensitive considering they are used for _breathing_. No wonder Time was in no shape to walk on his own, nevermind he somehow managed to fend off the others at the last minute —seriously, how _strong_ is this man?

There is an arrow embedded deep inside one of the gills. It is not coming out the easy way, and even if it did, he needs to heal the damage done to _the gills themselves_ , and he doesn’t know _how_. He has never had the _chance_ to work with Zora, or even to see how they live when not trying to kill him. He never expected that he would need such knowledge _now_ , especially considering every single one of them is supposed to be Hylian.

Is Time half-Zora? Does such a thing exist? How does that work, is he taking care of himself? And most importantly, who has interacted with Zora that would be able to help? Who would have the knowledge needed for treating Zora without causing more damage?

Most of them have dealt with Zora before, but as enemies or distant allies. Hyrule doubts Wind or Sky have _seen_ one outside of their current adventure, and Four always mentions them as a faraway kingdom. Twilight and Legend have mentioned working with them before, but only for a short time, as has Time. That leaves…

Well, the two who come from unified Hyrule.

“Hey, Wild? Warriors? Could I get some help over here?”

And so, Wild and Warriors become the third and fourth to notice, and the second and third to do something about it.

Hyrule doesn’t really explain the situation before he shows them, because he has no time and also doesn’t want to just… reveal Time’s secret to everyone else.

“I mean, sure, we had Zora in the army, so I can treat them, but why do you need—“ And then Warriors sees Time laying on the bed, and he rubs his eyes in clear irritation (at who? Hyrule doesn’t ask, probably Hylia). “Oh, okay, this makes perfect sense, this is our life now.”

“Mipha wouldn’t stop nagging until I learned how to heal her, so I know a bit, but usually we used magic or potions, not- not whatever is it we might need here?” Wild kneels beside the bed to get a closer look at the wound, fingers covered in light blue as he pokes at it to see the extent of the damage. “What about your magic?”

“I can heal, sure, but I do need to know a bit of anatomy for my spells to work, and usually I only deal with external wounds…” Hyrule’s head sinks into his shoulders, ashamed by his lack of knowledge. He should have studied more (but when?). “I can take the arrow out, but- but if it is deeper than it should, then I don’t know how to heal it.”

“Alright, let’s see how bad it is.”

Most potions are universal for all species of Hyrule, but there are some that are for very specific kinds of damage, and it turns out _gill damage_ needs a special potion according to the very helpful encyclopedia inside the Sheikah Slate. They never thought they would need _that one specific_ algae-based potion, so they never bothered to get it —and the Zora merchants they have met never offered it either, since the group is all Hylians, right? Maybe Time has some in his bag, if this is a normal thing for him, and it makes _so much sense_ that he wouldn’t let them heal him; but none of them feel comfortable looking through Time’s things for a potion (“The masks are there, I’m not opening it”), so they make do.

Warriors takes out the arrow, Hyrule drains the blood so it won’t go deeper into the gill and towards the lungs, and Wild holds Time down and gives a general check-up of the other gills on Time’s body (“Hey, there is some on his neck, what is this-“ “Maybe they are there to replace the cheek gills of the Zora?”). They find few places where the scales spread, so Wild ends up with a wet cloth to hydrate the ones that are too dry (“Sidon said it hurts a lot, and they can fall off, okay”), and then to clean around the gills for anything that should not be there (“So, if there is dirt in there, would it be like breathing dust?”).

All in all, they do a good job. None of them poke the gills too much, they don’t try to find more weird Zora anatomy in their supposed-Hylian leader (“See here, I’m sure this is a baby fin—“ “Wild, no, we are _not_ looking”), and by the time they are done everyone else has gotten too curious and are trying to peek through the door.

Hyrule makes a note to remind Wild to buy the algae potion when they next meet a Zora merchant, though. They might get some weird looks, but it will be worth it to never have to deal with this again.

* * *

Wild observes.

It is what he is best at. Watching, and waiting for the right moment to attack. All that suicidal training against Guardians had to serve for something, after all, but this is not a Guardian, and he doesn’t need to attack. All he needs to do is observe, and worry, and hope that they can get somewhere he can get some answers before something drastic happens.

His role in their group of traveling Heroes is pretty simple: he cooks, and he shoots things. Shooting things is easy: he jumps in the air, or climbs somewhere high, takes aim, and shoots. Cooking, not so much: he needs to take into consideration likes and dislikes, allergies, what will be healthy to eat on this side of the world, what _will_ _help_ them on their quest.

So far he has been cooking thinking everyone is Hylian, most of the time. Sure, Twilight can turn into a wolf, and he is pretty sure some of the others can also transform into other things, but none of those transformations is _permanent_. Most of the time, they are Hylian, with Hylian anatomy and Hylian tolerances, so he has been cooking with that in consideration.

Time is not Hylian, not completely. He has needs that are Hylian and needs that are _not_ Hylian. The specific algae that Zora cultivate in their river are one of them, algae that is used to care for gills, because Zora have gills and _so does Time_.

He can’t even ask Time about what he needs, because Warriors made Hyrule and Wild promise not to tell anyone about what they had seen, not even Time himself. He had said something about Time probably having odd feelings about not being completely Hylian, and Warriors knows Time better than the others, so he probably understands.

They keep the secret, as hard as it is, but keeping the secret doesn’t mean they can’t _act_ on it. It doesn’t mean that they can’t _worry_ about it, especially the both of them who are the healers of the group —Hyrule directly, Wild through keeping them well fed. They _have_ to know, in case Time gets in more trouble with his non-Hylian anatomy, just how Wild had to know how to treat non-Hylians on his travels: Kass had gotten injured a lot flying to weird, dangerous places, and Sidon actively looks for monsters threatening his people.

He had never had to deal with sensitive damage, though, and now he has to learn. It is survival, it is what Wild does best.

So he watches, and he worries, and he notices things. He notices how Time makes sure to not put on his armor too tight, or how his breathing gets heavier if it is too warm. He notices Time will pick at his neck scales when nervous until there is blood under his nails, or how he won’t sit too close to the fire no matter how controlled it is. He notices that sometimes he will refuse to eat meat, picking the salad instead, or that he will add spoonfuls of something-or-other to his meals at times.

Now, as Wild watches Time haggle with a Goron merchant for a container of finely ground granite, he wonders. He wonders if Time needs more minerals in his food, as Gorons do —Gorons who only eat rock, because rock has the minerals they need to keep their bodies strong and hard like they are meant to be.

“What is granite used for?” The Goron manning the other counter (he believes they are female, but he won’t make assumptions), who is carefully packing the metals and potions they have purchased, looks at him questioning. “The granite he needs, what is it for?”

“Hm? Hylians usually use it for their armors, or if they own Goron-made weapons it is used for maintenance,” they say, and they offer no more explanation. Why would they? Their group is supposed to be all Hylians.

He will have to ask someone else, then, and that will hopefully not be a mess. He already had a really hard and messy conversation with Sidon about half-Zoras, a question that had left Sidon laughing at him for _days_ , so he doesn’t think he will go to Yunobo or any of the other elders about it. It would be nice if Daruk was still with him, but he isn’t, and the Sheikah Slate doesn’t have the knowledge stored away in corners he would never reach unless he decides to read the whole thing, so Wild has to rely on other sources of information.

He asks Legend.

They are gathering wood for today’s camp (everyone said that the wood kept in the Slate should be for emergencies only), while the others do other tasks. Legend looks tired, and weary, and looks at him as if he has lost his head when he asks if he knows anything about Goron eating habits. Most specifically, he asks about the various powdered minerals he has seen in Goron stores, and their uses.

“You aren’t cooking for Gorons, why do you even need to know—“

“Curiosity, I guess,” Wild replies, not daring to look too close at Legend in case he reveals something he shouldn’t. “Daruk gave me some rock roast once, though we had to hit it with a hammer a few times before. It was good.”

“Wild, _please_ don’t eat the rocks.”

“I won’t, I’m just curious.”

“If you say so…”

It takes Legend a few more minutes to reply, minutes spent in silence gathering their wood. Wild thinks about the rock roast. He is not lying. It _was_ good, even though it left his jaw aching for days. He thinks something bad happened to his stomach too, but he wouldn’t know: the Shrine of Resurrection was thorough in all aspects.

“When Gorons age,” Legend finally begins, “their bones get denser. Heavier. They are made of rock, see, and they get the extra minerals from their diet. If they don’t, then they can’t move all that well, and break easier.”

“Is that why lots of elders just stay in their homes?”

“Yeah, partly. They get really heavy, even if they train a lot, so lots of them just don’t move when they retire.” Legend shrugs, and Wild looks away once again. “There are legends, hah, that say some mountains are actually really ancient Gorons who just… stopped.”

“That sounds... bad.”

“It does, doesn’t it? Still, don’t eat the rocks.”

Wild doesn’t eat the rocks, but he _does_ catch Time begrudgingly adding a measure of powdered basalt to his soup before he eats it. Usually, he would be offended, but he just looks away and pretends Time is fully Hylian for yet another night.

* * *

The next one to notice something is really weird— well, weird _er_ about Time is Wind.

Now, Wind likes shiny things. He is a pirate, and Tetra often teases him that he is part crow as well: he likes gold, and silver, and gemstones and _treasure_ in general. However, Wind is also a boy from the tropics, and as anyone raised in the humid heat would know, is that colorful things are _very, very attractive_.

Colorful things are dangerous as well. A rose has thorns, a Lizalfos has a bright tail, and carnivorous flowers are bright and unassuming until you get close to them, then _bang_! They close around their meal and never let them out. Colorful things, like the light of an anglerfish in the abyss of the sea, or the wings of the rocs that fly overhead, are _dangerous_ , and _attractive_ , and Wind is nothing else if he is not a thrill-seeker.

(Now, that is. He is a thrill-seeker _now_ , after his adventures and when he can relax without endangering the whole sea or whatever.)

So he likes _bright_ things. Shiny things, and colorful things, and things that just _goad_ his attention off where it currently is and towards something else. And it just so happens that there is a bright, colorful thing in his line of sight, exactly where it _shouldn’t_ be.

Time’s armor is gold and silver and black, and the bright purple flower currently resting on his shoulder is completely out of place. It is small, simply sitting there between two pieces of his pauldron like that is where it _belongs_ , and Wind knows that it wasn’t there last night. Somehow, in the time they weren’t looking, Time had gotten a flower from who knows _where_ , and tucked it into his armor without a care for the world or for how _out of place_ it was.

Wind’s attention span is better than Wild’s, so he doesn’t just skip over to the bright, shiny, _attractive_ flower to take it for himself, but it stays within his line of sight for the rest of the march towards Lon Lon Ranch. It doesn’t move and doesn’t fall, almost as if something was holding it in place. It barely flutters when the wind breezes past, and even stays in place after they have dispatched a small group of Bokoblins that were _also_ completely out of place.

Malon greets them all lovingly as always, and says they arrived _just on time!_ , and kisses her husband, and picks the flower up with the care of someone tending a wound. Wind follows her and watches as she puts the flower in a water bowl, where it floats gently alongside other small flowers.

No, not quite flowers. They are made of thin wood, shaped and painted in faded tones, so life-like it is almost as if a flower turned into wood through the passage of time. The bright purple flower seems out of place between the others, alive while the others are not.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Malon asks when she notices him, moving so he can see the bowl from a closer angle.

Wind carefully cups his hands so he can grab one, still floating on its water. It looks so delicate, and ancient, and brittle, almost as if it could break from any rough handling. It smells of the woods around Time’s Hyrule, and of ghosts, and smoke.

“They are! Where do they come from?”

“My husband brings them back from his travels,” she says, and gently helps him put the flower back where it belongs. “They are like little reminders of his adventures, of each day that passes. Proof that he is alive, in a way.”

Wind does not quite understand what she means, but through the few days they stay in the ranch, he watches as the bright purple flower withers. It loses its life and color and becomes faded wood like its companions, floating in the water until one night, when Malon empties the bowl and brings the wood flowers outside.

Wind counts thirteen of them as Time helps Malon tie them together through well-practiced use of rope and vines, making a garland of wooden flowers similar to many others hanging around the ranch. They argue a little about the placing, but finally end up hanging it from one of the bigger trees around, and then Time just sits down with his Ocarina and three other instruments and looks up at the moon.

It is a full moon.

“It is the date of the Carnival of Time,” Malon says once she has gathered all of them and herded them away from Time. “It is really important for Link, even if he can’t be there, so it would be nice of you if you didn’t bother him tonight.”

“We got lucky to be here for, well.” Warriors speaks to Malon after the others have left. Wind stays in a corner, hiding, pretending he isn’t spying on a conversation he should have no right to listen. “How long should he—“

“Until morning, I hope. A little longer if it gets too bad, but it shouldn’t be enough for him to grow roots.” She hides her face behind her hands for a few seconds, but then slaps her cheeks and smiles widely. “You should head to bed too, nothing bad will happen, this is our _home_.”

“Yes, but—“

“Bedtime!”

Wind sneaks into his assigned bedroom (with Four and Legend and Hyrule) just in time for Warriors to not notice him sneaking around. He makes sure the other door has shut close before turning to find his bed— and he finds everyone looking at him with varying emotions on their faces.

“I didn’t get anything, if that’s what you want to ask.”

“Leave the man alone, it is _his_ Carnival.”

Still, they can’t quite leave it alone, and stay awake listening to the old man _somehow_ play a song that seems to last for hours, on four instruments at the same time.

* * *

In hindsight, Warriors should have known something like this would happen. Not them getting thrown back to Lon Lon Ranch just in time for Time’s weird inner calendar to say ‘hey, it is New Year!’, which is very fortunate for Time, not so fortunate for them (because _Farore,_ he knows what New Year means for this man, and they probably won’t get peace for a few days). No, he means the other thing. The _other_ , possibly Terminan, possibly just Fate being unfair thing.

Time’s body.

How would he have known, you ask? Well, it should have been very obvious to him. He _was there_ when it started, he _was there_ when Time began changing from Hylian to something else, even if it was just small changes at the time. A face marking lingering, a Deity’s strength in Time’s normal form, the sword staying around long after he had turned back. A Skull Kid, holding his dear friend in a moment of illness, yelling at everyone to _stay away from them_. A far too young, baby-faced child smiling at the Princess with eyes not his own, far too calm for what his words had been:

‘You have met a terrible fate, haven’t you?’

Even now, Warriors shudders when he remembers those few days while in and directly after Termina, and it hadn’t _been_ the real Termina. According to Lana, it had been a replica, a field crafted from memories and nightmares brought along only to hurt those who would know of it, who were… only two people, at that time.

Young Link and the Skull Kid.

Their army met both of them in their quest: one, with terrifying strength and far too childish for the age he claimed, the other, horribly ancient and with a Demon’s magic still powering his mischief. One had gotten lost wandering through time (and isn’t _that_ a thought) before being pulled into their war, the other…

Well, they had found the other one after getting out of the replica Termina, for it had been _his_ memories that had built the entire thing.

Warriors had trained in warfare, terrible as it was. He is not a therapist, just a soldier with a little more on his shoulders than he should have; however, it hadn’t taken him much to see what was _wrong_ with the two of them. Their codependency was unnerving, their inability to bond with anyone (other than Warriors himself, and even that took time) unhealthy. They shared _everything_ and spoke in riddles and, when one drifted into his mind for too long, the other would be there to keep him safe and guide him through the day. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with in the battlefield, covering for each other if one slipped, tearing through enemy lines as easy as bread, the powers of two incomprehensible beings at their fingertips.

(When he had met Young Link —then Mask, now Time— in his current adventure and recognized the markings on his face, he had been half-expecting the Skull Kid to jump in from behind him and attack the group with his puppets. It hadn’t been an unreal expectation: they were near the Lost Woods, Time looked distressed, the moon had been whole. It was the _perfect_ setting for the Skull Kid to show up, but in the end, Time had just resigned himself to this new adventure and followed them through the portal.)

After they had found the Skull Kid, Warriors learned about the Heroes of Termina, though it was supposed to be just a fairytale: Young Link had talked about them like something far away, like telling a bedtime story to a child. They were four, five if you counted the bloodthirsty and bitter Deity that ruled over that land. From the north, the Goron Darmani the Third; from the west, Mikau, famous Zora musician; from the south, the Deku child whose name was unpronounceable by Hylians; finally, from the west, the wandering spirit in the shape of a child who brought them all together. They had called upon four Giants to stop the end of the world, and been granted a single wish by the Moon itself.

Young Link never went into any specifics, but Warriors knew there was something more to the tale. Termina Field itself was enough proof, but there were more hints, little subtle things that took a while to put together to paint the whole picture. From the Mask Young Link put on at a minor inconvenience, to the way he looked up at the moon when it was too big, to the way the Skull Kid himself talked about the celestial body and the story; there was no way it was just a fairytale.

And it was not.

But, back to Time’s body.

(Now that he thinks about it, had Young Link ever let anyone look at his wounds? Had anyone _besides_ the Skull Kid been there when he was feverish, or injured, or with a concussion? Then again, did anyone, asides from Warriors himself, seen them as _children_ instead of weapons for the war?)

Maybe Warriors hadn’t seen it because he had been too concerned about the Fierce Deity’s markings, or the scarred eye, but Young Link had had... _lots_ of Masks. He collected them, as did the Skull Kid, and lots of them had magic in them even when they only used the Fierce Deity and Majora’s in combat. The second one was supposed to be a replica, because the Skull Kid was really self-conscious about his face and he had gotten _attached_ to the thing, but the first one? No, the Fierce Deity’s Mask was very real, very powerful, and _very_ dark: it transforms the user into the Deity itself, the power of creation and destruction at their hands.

He remembers the other Masks when Time pulls one of them out: Keaton mask, no magic in there, just a child’s carnival face. Obviously handmade, well-loved and cared for, its only flaw he chipped paint that marked how old it was. One of many, Goddess only knows why Time carried them around with him.

Then he sees the gills, and he _remembers_.

(Once, back in the war and once Link had gotten close enough to both Young Link _and_ the Skull Kid, he had asked about the three Masks neither of them used for their pranks. The three Masks that were always easy to reach but never got used, the three Masks the Skull Kid never touched:

“These are… special. They don’t agree with Link being here.”

“Besides, we don’t need to swim anywhere, or roll down a mountain, or whatever, so they can sleep for a while longer.”)

Zora. Goron. Deku. The three Masks that were referred to as their own entities just as much as the Fierce Deity’s, the three Masks charged with _so much magic_ it was blinding, the three Masks that Time _refuses_ to part with. The three _transformation_ Masks. And, if the Fierce Deity managed to change Time enough that even as a Hylian he retains a lot of its strength, that the markings are _permanently_ on his face, then…

Then, how does anyone know how much the others have changed him?

Zora. Goron. Deku.

Gills and scales. Rock and hard skin. And the last one… Malon had said Time could grow roots, had that been a metaphor? Or is it a very real possibility?

Warriors just does not know.

* * *

_“There were four Heroes in Termina, each one from a different corner of the land. From the snowy peaks came Darmani; from the depths of the ocean came Mikau. From the swampy woods, a child made of wood; from the valley of ghosts, a wandering soul. They weren’t friends, they had never even met, but were forced to work together anyways. You see, Termina thrived when all the people were in harmony, but when they started forgetting how to do so? Termina was on the brink of self-destruction—“_

_“Is this going to be tragic?”_

_“The Moon falls!”_

_“What!”_

_“It is a really big place.”_

_“What does that even mean—“_

_“It is like_ this _big—“_

_“Do you want to hear the story or not, Tortus?”_

_“Who on Hyrule is Tortus—“_

_“You know what, I’m not telling you anything else. Storytime is over!”_

_“Noooo, Link, tell me the story!”_

_“You_ already _know the story!”_

_“Link!”_

_“Skull Kid!”_

_“Just— Just go to bed, both of you.”_


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lon Lon Ranch, and Sky and Legend ramble. Also the Skull Kid is there too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning** : there is a badly broken bone. Also, _really vaguely_ implied self-harm, assumptions that someone is dead, and no, I think that's all. Fantasy Science, Sidon does some exposition, Skyloft said 'romance is overrated, platonic love is also a thing we want to celebrate'; Legend and Zelda are siblings, ergo Ravio and Hilda are siblings too. Darmani shows up, so does the Skull Kid, and the Fierce Deity maybe. Termina is still Schrödinger's.
> 
> So I tried to make this not go on forever (and also not go too wild with adding headcanons and worldbuilding, but I failed in that), but then Sky and Legend ramble about two sides of the same topic for so long it became 6k words so... Yeah, there is a third chapter, where we explain some things and also Four and Malon give their insight. Sadly I haven't played Legend's games in years so he just... vaguely refers to some things that aren't Ravio, but they live in the same house so it kind of makes sense his rambling circles back to Ravio? Also Wild descends from the Zonai.

There is not much to be said about the moon, but much to say about time. Both exist, both are undeniable. Both are important to Link, though in different ways.

The moon. It is up in the sky, there are myths and legends about it, it comes out at night. It might be _their_ home, or a rabbit’s palace, or a turtle’s jeweled back. It might be cheese, or stone, or a mirror. It disappears and reappears as the weeks go by, and people adapt. They build their lives around its cycle, even if they don’t know about it. The harvest calendar is built around it, the seasons are built around it, even most women’s cycles weave into it as naturally as breathing.

It takes twenty-eight days, just a little less than an Hylian month, for the moon to go from peak to peak. Twenty-eight days is also the time it takes for a Deku flower to bloom, for fairies to regain their magic, and for a wandering soul to become attached. Twenty-eight days is how long a certain Skull Kid can stay in one place without feeling anxious, and also how long Link could get lost in his own head while his body went on with life before Malon got him to enjoy his own mortality.

Now, Hyrule? Hyrule makes no sense.

There are _around_ thirty days in the Hylian month, and twelve months to a year. Almost everything in Hylian Hyrule is organized around this dating system, which confuses Link to no end. He does not know his age in Hyrule, as for his early childhood he followed the Kokiri ‘calendar’: twenty-eight moon cycles mark a single ring of the Great Deku Tree and thus a ‘year’, and twenty-eight days is how long hide-and-seek lasts for the Kokiri. _However_ , the Kokiri never kept track of time the way Hylians do, and that stresses him to no end. According to Saria, Link was _around_ four Kokiri-years when he left the Woods, but according to the Great Deku Tree, he was _around_ nine Hylian-years. Zelda, Sheik said he was asleep for _around_ seven years, but were those supposed to be Hylian years or Kokiri years?

He just doesn’t know. He believes it is Hylian, so he was _around_ sixteen-while-still-nine back at that time. Not that it matters much, because no matter how long he spent in the other time, it doesn’t exist anymore.

“Twenty-eight days to a month, thirteen months to a year,” Kafei had said when he asked. He had looked confused, because Hyrule does not exist for Terminans, just as Termina does not exist for Hyruleans. Termina exists so long as someone knows it exists, and the only one who knew Termina existed for a long while was Link’s own dear friend. Kafei motioned to the grinning moon that was coming down, faster and faster by each second, the last few hours of the final day. “We just follow— that thing.”

“Makes more sense than my life,” Link said, and it was then when he became a devout follower of the Terminan calendar system.

Each full moon means another month, and thirteen of them make for a year. He builds himself a custom of remembering the day, the day when they all died and were reborn only to die again: the Carnival of Time. Every thirteen moons he plays the songs once again, hoping the giants that are in his memories will hear them and hold Termina and his sanity for another year.

Twenty-eight days is what it takes for a Deku flower to bloom, and when his body starts changing and merging with the other three Heroes of Termina, twenty-eight days is what it takes for his branches to produce a single flower. Thirteen flowers made of wood go into a garland instead of a new mask, and he celebrates his own Carnival of Time with his dear friend and, later, with Malon.

He makes no new masks.

Twenty-eight is also the number of Masks Link owns, though four of them are hidden deep in the woods, not deep enough an adult can’t reach them, but deep enough a single misstep means certain death; they are hidden where his friend goes to rest when his feet take him back home, and where Link goes to hide when the world becomes too much.

Twenty-eight masks, and Link will add no more.

* * *

In Lon Lon Ranch, there is a puppet.

It is made of wood and fishing string, of rough carvings and rougher cuts. It looks like an artisan’s very first work, back when they were young and had been touched by inspiration for the very first time. It sits in a corner, hidden by greenery and faded garlands and flowers, facing the Lost Woods.

Well, saying it _faces_ anywhere would be a lie, for it has no face. It has no face, or eyes, or a nose or a mouth: it is just a round head, a small torso and very long limbs. A feathery necklace is hung to its neck, but apart from that its only decoration are the lines painted on its head.

It is, in all honesty, a really ugly thing.

“Well,” Sky had said, placing the disturbing puppet back in its spot back when they had found it, “it doesn’t seem to be anything bad. It is just…” He motioned, expression stuck between horror and bemusement. “Well, ugly.”

And that was all they ever said about the puppet hidden in a corner.

Until now, that is, because it is _moving_.

“I _told_ you it would, I _told you_!” Twilight pulls one of the swords Four had finished working on last night while the smith tries to scramble away from his makeshift forge. The others, who had been helping until now, get ready to fight as well: the puppet _seemed_ safe until a few minutes ago, but now it is not anymore, and if they have to fight it to protect Lon Lon Ranch then—

It moves _slowly_ and very awkwardly, but something pulls it back in time to evade a swing from the sword, then back again to evade Hyrule’s hammer. Whatever is controlling it seems to be close, and both Wind and Four focus on the direction while Legend watches their back. Sky stands closer to their leader’s house, guarding a still sleeping Time, and Malon and Wild, who are preparing lunch.

Defenseless, all of them. Warriors was supposed to stay inside as well, supposedly watching over Time—who had given in to sleep the moment the sun started rising—, but he had left for the direction of the Woods a few hours back for _no apparent reason._ The Woods, same direction as the puppetmaster seems to be coming from; the Woods, where they had met Time for the first time in this adventure.

The Lost Woods seem to be very important.

(Is Warriors alright?)

Wind follows the subtle changes in the breeze when the puppet jerks to a side, and Four follows whatever is it he listens to when he speaks about Nature. They don’t get too far before they start hearing the sound of a badly-tuned flute, single notes with no coherence or cohesion, and another puppet drops from the sky to keep them from going closer. This one is just as ugly as the first one, though it wears a Mask with three bright green eyes and seems to be made of multiple torsos, moving around like a worm as it surrounds the two heroes.

They are just about to attack it when Warriors comes out of _nowhere_ and puts his foot atop one of the puppet’s joints, holding it in place.

“Okay, _enough_ , that’s enough.”

“Aw, but they looked so _desperate_ —“

 _What_.

The creature that shows up from behind Warriors is small and thin, very frail-looking. It wears only leaves as its clothes, its hat, and around its feet, but it has a necklace made of feathers around its neck. It is holding a wooden ocarina in one hand, and a cross of sticks in the other. Its voice is childish, with an echo that reminds everyone of a being above the material realm, a being that had surpassed humanity and _mortality_.

They recognize it. It is the same creature they met in the Woods a while ago, with two friends. Time had seemed to be friends with it, even telling it they would play hide-and-seek together though he didn’t go looking at all, and by the time they had hopped worlds again most of them had forgotten about it.

 _Most_ of them. Twilight remembers, because he had a short adventure chasing after a similar being with similar skills. Warriors remembers, because this is the same Skull Kid he had met in his own war, puppets and ocarina as well. Wild remembers, because he recognized that otherworldly giggle from his own Lost Woods, ever-present and always out of sight. Time, of course, remembers, because this is his dearest friend who he shared memories and adventures with.

The latter two are not present right now, so instead the others have to deal with the situation, because Time is not here to explain _what on Hyrule_ is going on.

“What?” Legend breaks the silence from where he is trying to stop the first puppet from _moving_.

“Skull Kid, these are Link— They are all called Link,” Warriors explains upon seeing the Skull Kid’s face twist in confusion. His memory was never the best when it came to anything besides Time. “Everyone, this is the Skull Kid, Time’s… brother.”

“ _What!?”_

* * *

His conversation with Sidon happened as he was learning how to make the gill-care potion. It was a little harder than he expected: too much of one ingredient could be dangerous, too little of another would make the potion nothing else than a fun flavoring option. But, in the end, he learned how to make it, all the while learning of a dozen more things he should be worried about when it came to Time.

Sidon, of course, laughed at him when he asked.

“Isn’t it a little too late to be asking?,” he had said, and Wild blushed because, he never really thought about it even when Mipha was still alive. The idea of half-Zora being an _actual, real_ possibility instead of just some plot point for romance novels he found scattered in the Castle and stored away in his memories, came as a _shock_ , mostly because he had never seen one before —never _recognized_ one amongst the few he had met, apparently.

Sidon had pointed at one Zora that was a little weirder than the others, but still really Zora in all her anatomy. The only differences were, her shape was a little more Hylian, she wore loose clothing instead of the usual Zora garments, and her fins were smaller than they should. She lived in a tiny house near the river, but spent most of her time in the algae farms, and she was also the expert of all things Hylian. Now that Wild could look at her closer, he remembers her from when he was too injured to heal himself, or that one time he had to escort her to deliver a message to Hateno; apparently, she was a common intermediary between them, even though most people thought she was just an under-developed Zora.

“What you need to know,” Sidon had explained, pointing to his own gills as he went through his teachings, “is that they are delicate, but not _too_ delicate. If you leave them alone and just heal other wounds, the body’s own growth factor will deal with them easily enough. You should only have to interfere if one gets stabbed, or shredded, or if half or more of them are injured.”

“Shredded?” That sounded terrifying.

“Some fish like going after them, especially when they aren’t cleaned well—“

So, gills. The Zora had a collection of scales near the gills that acted as protection: they were thicker, and folded over the gills when outside of the water, a layer of protection for whatever could get inside them while in open air. They filtered most solid things above a certain size, but if you weren’t careful you could end up with a piece of algae stuck inside one. They needed dutiful care, just like all important anatomy pieces of all species, and also _could not be covered_.

“It would be like putting a wool facemask on, or like tying a choker too tight. Your breathing would be hindered, not too badly, but enough to be noticed after a while.”

“Makes sense.” Wild then _really_ worried about Time, because Time’s clothing was not precisely _breathable._ Sure, the first one or two layers were apparently made of fine cotton (he had checked), but the armor was _metal_.

Sidon had looked at the group, still being fussed over by other Zora down near then river. “None of your companions look like they might be one, though, or if there is one then he is really not caring much for his own health. All their clothes are on too tight, maybe not the little blue boy—“ (Wind, Wild thinks) “—but everyone else…”

Right. So he needed to watch out for Time being out of breath, or for whenever he got hit too close to his chest.

“Anything else I should know?”

“Yeah. Half-Zora tend to have a secondary set of gills around here,” Sidon pointed to his neck, closer to his chin and to the side than Time’s own. “They aren’t as strong as the lung ones, and are more prone to damage due to nothing to guard them, but they are more of… Hm, I think they are used more as an olfactory organ than a breathing one? I’m not quite sure, I would need to read up on it.”

“Right. Thank you, Sidon.”

“They also, uh… Their lifespans aren’t as long as us Zora, or even most Hylians,” Wild tried to keep himself steady, but the words made him pause, the algae in his hands almost falling to the ground. “Their lungs can’t keep up, most of the time, and their body mass can’t sustain itself when they reach their final growth spurt unless they are _really, really_ careful.”

“Their… growth spurt? They keep growing?”

“Yeah, same as Zora. It is slow, but we keep growing until, uh… Our hundred-somethings? That’s when we usually reach our final height, but there is a period of time before that where we grow a _lot_ within a few months.“ Sidon motioned to himself, then in the direction where his father should be. “For us, it isn’t that weird, because we are used to it. In fact, most of the people you see here aren’t old enough to be considered fully grown adults —including me.”

Wild wondered then, how old Mipha had been, how old the soldiers the Calamity had taken had been. How old Sidon had been _back then_ , and how old he was _now_ , barely an adult to his own people. What age do they start training for battle? Clearly too young, not as young as Wild himself had been, but— But the people here, lots of them had been born _years_ after the Calamity, and the ones who remembered Link were the elders, or those who wouldn’t have been old enough to go out to war back then.

He felt sick. So many lives, with so much ahead of them, lost because of his failure, and—

Sidon brought him into a hug ( _‘I understand’_ , he said, _‘we don’t blame you’)_ , and they remained like that in silence for a few minutes. Then, they parted, and Wild looked away trying to compose himself while Sidon continued his lecture:

“Hylians don’t, though. They only grow until their late teenage years or so, like you, or most of your companions.” _Most_ of them, because here they were traveling with Wind, and Hyrule, and Twilight and Legend and Sky never really admitted their own ages, and— “Half-Zora, though? They are unpredictable and depend a lot on outside factors. Unless they have been preparing for it, which they can’t really do because it can come at any time after the mid-forties, it surprises them and… Well, their bodies just aren’t ready. They shoot up like weeds, and then stall, and they never get used to the new requirements their own bodies need, and…

“Well, you get the idea.”

* * *

Sky grew up in Skyloft, and just as any Skyloftian would, the idea of someone being not _fully_ -Skyloftian isn’t really something he thinks about much. He knows Sheikah, he knows Kikwis, he knows Gorons and Mogma and Parella somewhat; asides from the Sheikah, none of those looked remotely compatible with Skyloftians, and so the idea of any Skyloftian having features from any of the other species was just… no.

At least for his era. Who knows what they have in the future, and he has come to realize he is _really_ sheltered when it comes to relationships and such. Outside of the few tales he has managed to hear from the other species, there isn’t much documentation about anything _not_ Skyloftian, and the romance novels he has read are enough to explain _some_ things to him.

He has Zelda, maybe he has Groose too, and that is it. Fi is a sword and he loves her, but she is a Sword. Better not think much about it, because if he starts thinking about it then his head will break.

Now, as he looks at Time, he wonders if maybe Fi was wrong about her very first assessment of everyone else, or if Sky had misunderstood something. She had said everyone was Hylian ‘from a different time, children of Skyloft raised elsewhere’, and that is what he had believed. So what if Wild was apparently a ‘descendant of the desert and the forest‘, whoever they are —they were probably Hylian in appearance as well. Twilight and Four are Hylian ‘most of the time, by a blessing from the Goddess’, Fi had said, and okay. Hyrule and Legend are Hylian ‘with something else, something that is part of their heritage as much as Skyloft is yours’, so that was okay. Wind and Warriors are Hylian ‘with a light color of breeze and metal and fire’, so that was fine as well.

She didn’t say anything about Time, so Sky had taken it as ‘there is nothing wrong here, just another Hylian’, and that had been his mistake.

The Skull Kid is definitely not Hylian. He flies as he walks, stepping on air like it is ground, his puppets following his every move; he has a beak instead of a mouth, and a mask that covers half his face, and wood instead of flesh. He reminds Sky of a Kikwi, of the dragons, and of Hylians all together: wood and magic and life. He also reminds Sky of the robots, and a little of Fi: a construct, animated by the gift of magic.

Of course, he had introduced himself, since ‘Skull Kid’ was apparently the name of his species: his name is moonlight in a clear night and fog of the forest and a raindrop that falls unheard in the depths of the Woods. A name that is unpronounceable by _everyone_ except Four, something of a bell’s chime and the note of an ocarina in the middle of a storm. Since they could not pronounce the name, he was just Skull Kid to everyone else.

On their way back to the Ranch, Warriors had said the Skull Kid and a young, way too young Time had to be seen as both individuals and a single unit, and he had had a very simple name for the two-as-one-as-two idea: brothers. Everyone understood they weren’t _brothers_ in the usual sense, but rather more of a chosen brethren kind of thing, both to be seen as one another and a single entity together. Apart, they were Link of the Kokiri and _a_ Skull Kid; together, they were the Full Moon and a clock’s bell at midnight and a low mourning howl, a dance of magic in the Woods and whispered secrets in a tree’s hollow.

Sky is rather sheltered when it comes to relationships, but he wonders if it is a little like he and Groose, or what he assumes Wind and Tetra, Legend and Ravio, or Wild and his champions, are. The term was apparently forgotten after Skyloft stopped being _Skyloft_ , the only one who knew what he was talking about being Four, and even _he_ understood it as a vague idea without real translation —he called it a kinstone bond, which he wasn’t able to quite explain either. Siblings of different mothers is not quite enough, a single soul in two bodies is _still_ missing something. It is the idea of sharing fates, sharing duties, sharing that which is both physical and mental; of being able to look at one another and _know_ trust is mutual, _know_ the other has your back, simply _know_ you will be together until the end, no matter what tries to pull you apart.

It is not romance like he has with Zelda. It is not a soulbond like he shares with his Loftwing. Sky knows that, the day he falls, it will be with Groose at his side, and that is another sort of relationship he does not know how to explain.

No one said such a bond was exclusive to Hylians, and no one said such a bond was only _between_ Hylians, but now that he looks at Time and the Skull Kid, he wonders if they are not real brothers instead of _chosen_ brothers. Their mannerisms are too similar, the way they lean against each other too familiar, the high whistles and laughs that make Time look a whole three decades younger, too oddly displaced from reality. From how Malon steps around them when the Skull Kid floats to the ceiling in a fit of giggles, or the way said Skull Kid reaches for her hair to put flowers in it, it is clearly a frequent thing, which is more confusing than not, because—

“Aren’t Skull Kids unable to leave their Woods?” Twilight is unusually quiet as he reaches for a slice of apple, directing the question to Warriors. They are just done eating lunch, except for Time and his friend who are taking all the time in the world to catch up. “I thought—“

“This one is a little… too powerful,” Warriors replies. And, yeah, they were just fighting his _puppets_ , who he controlled with an _ocarina_ , and the way he just broke all laws of the Goddesses with a snap of his fingers was definitely stronger than _average_ forest imp. Sky has never met them, but the Links who have a version of the Lost Woods in their own Hyrule have been shooting _looks_ at the Skull Kid ever since they brought him back to the Ranch.

(“Is this safe?” Legend had asked, because he _knows_ about monsters, and knows Skull Kids are a _type of undead_ , and surely bringing one to their current base where their tired Leader and his wife live is not the best idea.

“Can you keep him away?” Warriors had asked, and that was that.)

Sky is more busy looking at _Time_ than at the Skull Kid though —the imp looks harmless enough, clinging to Time and Malon and generally being really cute in a creepy way. Time, who is wearing possibly the most casual ensemble of clothes Sky has ever seen him in, who keeps tugging at a little green thing near his sleeve, and who is munching on bits of clay.

How does Sky know it is clay? Because he had been the one to break the vase this morning, and then apologized to Malon who only laughed and said she would throw it away. Except she hadn’t, and instead washed it and mixed it with the salad Time is eating, and Time doesn’t see anything wrong with the clay in his lunch. The Skull Kid doesn’t either, expertly evading the bits of clay and going instead for the seeds that look almost exactly the same.

“Does clay taste good?” Sky doesn’t know he asked the question out loud, and so he doesn’t know that Wild is giving him _knowing_ looks, or that Legend is now looking closer at Time’s meal, or that Hyrule is making a note in his journal. He doesn’t notice Wind stops looking at the green vine wrapped around Time’s wrist to instead look at Sky, or Twilight and Warriors speaking louder so his words will go ignored, or Four’s sharp whistle that interrupts Time’s own conversation.

All he knows is that he never considered people being anything-besides-Hylian before, but maybe he should come to accept the idea of it, because people _talk_ when they think he is asleep and some secrets shouldn’t stay _secret_ for as long as they have. He knows, because he has heard of it: Wild and Hyrule discussing gill-care with each other, Warriors complaining to Twilight about old men who would choke themselves to death, Legend arguing with Four and Wind about the cost of buying powdered copper from the Gorons versus making it themselves.

Most importantly, he has seen it. Once, when half asleep and thinking it was a dream, he had seen Time out of his armor, taking a knife to his own skin while complaining all the way about how annoying overgrown vines were, or how they kept digging under his scales, or how no, _they_ are not going to pull them from the root again because it hurt a lot _last_ time, thank you Darmani.

Sky has seen Time pruning the vines and leaves growing from _his own skin_ enough times to think that, maybe being more-than-Hylian is completely possible, but it also sounds like too much trouble and why won’t Time _ask_ for help at times? Why won’t he _trust them_ already?

What did they do wrong?

* * *

In an event that happened a short while before they reached Lon Lon Ranch, and also a short while after Legend’s talk with Wild (so, just a midpoint in time, just like Legend himself), Legend became the fourth one to actually _help_ Time with his physical ailments. It had been a curious moment, interesting just like any chance he has of learning secrets about his current companions always is, but this one had been a little more dangerous than usual.

First, some backstory, because while Legend is a veteran of adventuring, he also had never seen something quite like Time before. From his appearance and hidden features under his clothes to his Masks to his magic signature, everything about Time had been a dilemma, a cryptic mess of irregularities and contradictions that made Legend wonder, how is this man still alive?

The answer is probably _luck_ , just as with Legend himself.

So, Legend. Legend is a man of many talents, many travels and many kinds of knowledge stored in his head. He knows some craftsmanship, some smithing, some embroidery. He knows of cultures and countries the others have never heard of before, and he also knows of species that are not native to Hyrule. The idea of someone in their group being _half_ something else had not come as a shock to him: it had been more of an ‘oh, no’ moment, because they had been in danger, and Time had been dying and Legend had no idea how to treat any of these wounds.

At first, he had believed Time’s curious magical signature was because of his Time Magic shenanigans, or a leftover from being raised by forest children. Time had introduced himself as ‘Link of the Kokiri’, and Legend had a vague idea of what the Kokiri _were_ from time spent putting the missing story of Hyrule and Lorule back together. Apparently, Time also had an actual surname given to him by the crown, but he didn’t use it because it was “too stuffy” for a single part-time soldier, full-time husband.

(His surname is Chronos, because of _course_ it is. Then again, Legend’s own surname is Hyrule, so he can’t say anything about _stuffy and stuffier_ surnames.)

The Kokiri. The Kokiri had been one of the species of Hyrule in the Fallen Hero’s time, fairy children who lived immortal lives under the watch of the Great Deku Tree. They had lived in the Lost Woods, and had been the first to fall under Ganondorf’s ruling fist for the sole mistake of raising the Fallen Hero. They had defended themselves the way they could, but eventually disappeared, leaving behind the walking remains of those who dared enter the Woods.

The Kokiri also existed in Lorule, but had vanished along with the Triforce. That had lead Zelda and Hilda to think they might have been vital for the balance of the world, and probably one of the reasons why Hyrule’s greenery flourished while Lorule’s dried out. They don’t really know, they probably won’t ever know, because they are long gone as of Legend’s time.

Time’s magical signature, though, was still weird, Kokiri-raised or Time-bender or whatever he wants to call it. To start with, it is _still_ most of the time, and the time when it _isn’t_ , there are four. _Four_ whole magical signatures, very distinct from each other. It is unlike that of Four’s, which are different just like how the colors of his tunic are: they are of the same fabric, but different elements, blending together in perfect balance. Time’s… don’t really blend together, at all.

Now, Legend knows some things (a lot) about magic, but he is mostly just a user of artifacts: he can’t cast magic as Hyrule can, or like Zelda or Hilda. He channels his magic through his multiple items, and said item shapes the magic to whatever it wants. One could argue that Legend _should_ be able to cast magic, as Ravio can do so by himself, but as much as Legend and Ravio are technically the same person raised in different circumstances, said circumstances affected them enough Legend can’t cast anything as easy as his sister can, while Ravio… Well, he is mostly a craftsman of magic artifacts (which he later rents or sells for a few years’ worth of rent), and the few times he has _used_ it, he tends to lose control and destroy a whole nation or something.

Magic signatures are different for each person. Legend and Ravio share one, because as mentioned, they are the same person: they are music and secrets, gold and gemstones. Zelda and Hilda as well, and everyone is Koholint had also shared the same signature (it should have been an obvious giveaway, but Legend had been young, and in love, and fuck the Windfish). Sky feels like crackling lightning, Wind feels like the ocean breeze, and Hyrule like soft cotton candy; Warriors is hardened steel and steady stone, Wild is sand under the sunlight and stormy forests, Twilight is a quiet shadow dancing in the sun, Four is a cacophony of elements. Time is _still_.

 _Still_ , like he is frozen in time, or frozen in _life_. He feels like a Stalfos, or like the Skull Kid he calls _brother_ : he feels like a walking corpse. And when he _doesn’t_ … There is the curious thing, because when Time isn’t still, he is one of four. They tend to peek out at certain times: rustling curiosity in the woods, rock-hard determination in the mountains, waves of nostalgic music, and… _Time_.

Not Time, as in the Fallen Hero, the old man some of them had come to see as a parental figure; no, Time, as in the passage of time, undeniable and terrifyingly real. It kind of feels like what one would expect the manifestation of a Deity to feel like: vast, with no edges in sight, all-consuming and overwhelming— except Time is not a God, and the presence is actually really small.

How small? Apparently small enough to fit in a Mask.

Legend knows a Mask. It is technically Ravio’s, as it comes from Lorule, but it has been in his house for so long they just say it is part of it. It resembles the Mask that Wild showed them, the creepy heart-shaped one with spikes and large eyes, but neither of those had the magical signature that he has come to recognize as _Time’s Masks_. Because those are the same as time: curiosity, determination, music, and the vague idea of the unaltered flow of time.

Legend doesn’t like the idea of snooping around the others’ things, but by this point of their adventure, everyone knows what their bags contain. Or, have an idea of it, as Legend’s is kind of weird in that it connects to Ravio’s, and Wild’s is always expanding to fit whatever he needs, and Hyrule has a bag that holds more tiny bags, and— Yeah, they have lots of stuff. Time’s bag, however, is for his Masks, and other tiny things he collects or buys from random merchants: bottles mostly, powdered minerals, some Deku potion, milk, some awfully specific plants.

Legend’s first adventure inside Time’s bag happens in the event that happened a short while before Lon Lon Ranch, when Time had been dying, and Legend had no idea how to treat these injuries. He knows about the other species in Hyrule, but never had he had to _treat_ their wounds, even if he has an idea of _how_ to go about it. So, that day, when they got separated by the portal, and Time-and-music had taken a wrong step almost _into_ a magma river in Death Mountain, a bone had snapped and, behold! It was rock.

Legend has had many adventures in the past, and he understands some things others do not. Mostly, he understands that people are different and have different needs, and that species all have something that brings them apart from the rest.

(Ravio, for instance, was part-Lorulean-Sheikah, and had been ostracized for his eye coloring and inability to wield a sword —Legend is working on it—; as is Hilda, as are Zelda and Legend and the royal lineage of Hyrule after the Fallen Hero’s death. Ravio had gotten the jackpot of the traits, unfortunately sending his mother on exile, and also all the magic that should have been Hilda’s; in direct opposition, Zelda had gotten all the magic while Legend was raised by his uncle for being a nuisance to the royal lineage. The part-Sheikah-jackpot meant Ravio and Zelda were highly skilled, but not precisely durable, and that was something Legend had to take in consideration when doing just about anything involving either of them.)

Of course, making a rock plaster for a Hylian had been a new one, but he won’t judge, and he is always open to new knowledge. Time-and-music had been clearly delirious, and even then his signature had been slowly fading into determination-and-curiosity as Legend worried for the old man— because, he was clearly dying, bleeding out from a _stupid, completely treatable wound_ while Legend panicked over it being _rock_.

 _Half-Goron_? Okay. Legend could deal with this, he _had_ to be able to deal with this, and follow Time-not-really’s slurred instructions on how to make the rock plaster. Crush some expensive and ridiculously hard plant that grows near Death Mountain —not that one, that is Deku wood, the other one, that is it. Now add some granite and please move our vine away from the magma, it might catch fire—

“Where do they _come from_ , Din, what is—“

“That one, we think, it is our wrist?” Sure, as Legend picked up the smallest vine that had been sneaking away from his work area, and followed it to its origin, it was born right at the base of the wrist where the artery would be. The skin there was discolored, almost bark-like in texture, and showed clear signs of someone carelessly ripping out _something_ from it —had Time tried to get rid of his _own vines_? Was this a Kokiri thing?

He didn’t ask, even though he clearly should have, because later that day once Time was back to full coherence he had refused to _explain_ anything, and Legend hadn’t pried.

But the _plaster_ , at that moment, had been something else. The plant, some granite, a _whole pumice rock_ (“It is the white one, give it here, I will crush it—“ “You can’t even move your arm, just let me hit it with the sword—“) and a teaspoon of copper dust. Mix it well, add some water, and there you have it, rock glue.

It is for Gorons, because their bones are made of stone, and Time had broken his leg _just_ _right_ to not be healable through the usual means. Legend _could_ _see_ the rock peeking from under the skin, gray and ugly and _bloody_ and dripping sap and _that can’t be normal_ (it is, apparently, completely normal. For Time), and he had never wanted to cover something up as much as that moment. Unfortunately, he couldn’t just use a potion and be done with it, because ‘we tried once, back in Termina, it didn’t go well— potions taste bad, besides, it is bad for our roots’.

Time had had all the ingredients in his bag for a _reason_ , and apparently he kept them in his bag for _emergencies only,_ nevermind an emergency would not have allowed him to use any of the ingredients and specific potions and medicine. Legend is a whole idiot for not seeing it before.

 _Goron_ , Time is part Goron. Part Zora too (“Are these scales?” “Ah, did they crack? Tell us they didn’t, Mikau will be so _mad_ —“) and whatever else the vines growing from _under his skin_ are (“Is this a Kokiri thing, then?” “No, no, don’t tug at it, it helps for balance”), but Legend won’t judge. He _can’t_ judge, he has seen enough weird shit in the world, and he really has no right to judge. He was a rabbit once, he isn’t even meant to be alive, doesn’t legally exist even; who _cares_ if Time’s body is an amalgamation of all the species of the world?

No one, that’s who.

Legend patiently waits for the moment he can interrogate Time about all this, and it just so happens that time is when they arrive Lon Lon Ranch.

* * *

_“Termina is now safe. Time will be restored, and all your deeds will occur as they would, should, from the very first cycle until this one. Now, I am,_ we are _grateful; you have done us a great favor, and as rulers of this land, as its guardian, I ask you: what is your wish?”_

_“...The others. They, them— the Masks. Will they—“_

_“Unfortunately, not even I can recover a lost soul.”_

_“...”_

_“I apologize. Their time was, is limited. Your actions sped the process of their passing, ended their suffering earlier, but even if we were to bring them back, their time would be over the day of the Carnival.”_

_“But Majora isn’t—“_

_“Their deaths were not orchestrated by our old friend, my ancient foe. Even before your arrival and return, their ends were already on their way. Such is fate, for them, for us as well. In three days, the child will succumb to the poison that infests his body, the hero will meet his final quest in the unexpected cold, the musician will perish from his infected wounds.”_

_“...In three days… Would they remember that they die?”_

_“Those of us here as of now will remember your hardships.”_

_“But what about them?”_

_“You remember, and they were, are part of you, just as you and I are now part of each other. I and You and Them, we now share more than just memories. We have shared a body, and a fate, and a vision of what could and would be: we are one and the same._

_“We are_ Termina _, all four of you, and myself as well.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _There is only 24 masks-_ : You are not counting the Bosses' remains, so it is actually 28 masks in Link's possession by the end of the game. The moon children kept theirs, the ones Time is talking about are kind of replicas.
> 
>  _Skull Kid?_ : He is here, and also really powerful. He is Termina Years Old, so he just does whatever he wants, and also already has his puppets; Majora might have made some changes. He gets to meet Wild later. Tatl and Tael are around, probably bothering the Kokiri.
> 
>  _Time's body_ : He is a weird one, yes. He has gills and scales, and some extra cartilage adjacent to some bones (baby fins), most of his bones are made of rock (but then how does he swim? It is lightweight rock!), he has some tree-bark-like patches of skin and also grows vines. They are still trying to figure it out, but Time and the others go by: internal organs are split between Zora and ~~Terminan~~ Hylian, bones are Goron, some skin and some nerve ends are Deku. They also think their hair and both eyes will turn white with time, but they don't mind the Deity's markings much.  
> What about if Time uses the Masks? The Fierce Deity is still very much Fierce Deity because it has not been long enough for them to change, though since the Deity takes over Time's body, it is the same as Time. The other three bodies have also adapted to be a weird mix of all of them and, while they have gotten used to the changes, they mostly just... let Time run around as Time, because they are tired and were not really born to take on the burden they have to deal with (what burden? Well). They don't really _need_ the Masks to transform anymore, but they do make it easier and besides, they can poke out of their head if they want to feel the world, or show Legend how to heal their leg, that is fine too.
> 
>  _Termina_ : I made some claims about Termina in this chapter, but well, Termina is basically a self-contained paradox! I am not going deep into Termina Theory but know this: it exists because the Fierce Deity wills it to exist and the Fierce Deity came to be because the citizens of Termina wanted it so, the Skull Kid is Termina Years Old as are the Giants, Termina only exists so long as someone remembers it. The last one is the most important.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright hear me out: this has been an idea that has been in my head for a long while now, basically, what if after MM Link wasn't fully Hylian? Then I started thinking about LU and the Boys, and, what if they had to see that? So this came out. It is supposed to be part of a series, with two other parts (one where Time goes too deep into his own head and Mikau, Darmani, and the Deku butler's son have to drive the body for a while, the other directly after MM and HW where bebe Link, the Skull Kid, and Malon have to deal with Link's body changing beyond their understanding), but this is also a side project I started due to writer's block and I _really_ should be working on other stuff. Who knows, maybe I will write them, maybe I will just finish this one and leave it there, I don't know.
> 
> This was very fun though, I had to think about worldbuilding which is my favorite thing ever, and for Majora's Mask, my favorite all-time game.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Come bother me @ ReunLuet in Twitter, or you can try and find me in Discord, that works too.


End file.
